


innocence and the flowering of love

by soldierwitch



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, young!isabella/rosaline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: Sunlight makes a goddess of Rosaline in the summer and turns Isabella into her devout follower. It has been this way since they were kids and it has remained despite the flower of their youth beginning to blossom into womanhood.





	innocence and the flowering of love

**Author's Note:**

> for my dear Ikea.

Sunlight makes a goddess of Rosaline in the summer and turns Isabella into her devout follower. It has been this way since they were kids and it has remained despite the flower of their youth beginning to blossom into womanhood.

Isabella’s father says that one day this must change but for now she runs through the garden, head thrown back, cackle released from her throat. The gnarled, hunched woman they just escaped would say she sounds like a wicked, improper thing with her laughter and untidy curls but Isabella feels like a bird a flight with Rosaline’s hand clasped in hers. _Lord forgive me_ , she thinks, _but duty be thrice damned in the face of Rosaline’s influence_.

Rosaline’s smile and the mischievous glint in her eyes sing of freedom. They make Isabella want to fly beyond the walls of this palace with its rules, its propriety. And who is she to ignore the call? Rosaline’s call? A princess of Verona, yes, but that is a birthright. She is the blood of the city born from the fruit of its ruling hand but Rosaline is a kindred spirit. By station she is entitled to the girl’s presence, but Isabella feels privileged with it nonetheless. Rosaline is a force. A storm Isabella does not mind getting caught up in.

“Issa. Issa,” Rosaline says, breathless from laughter and running. “Oh, her face, Issa. Impudent child!” She laughs again.

Isabella feels the loss of Rosaline’s hand like a wound but holds tight to the smile still directed at her. _I am being ridiculous_ , she thinks. _Rose is right there. How can I miss her? How can the parting of our hands cause such an ache?_

Rosaline twirls. Her skirts, like the sun, dance across her legs before she falls to the ground with a soft thud and rolls onto her back. “Issa, how much trouble do you think I am in?”

“As a Capulet, none,” Isabella says with a hand to her chin as if she must truly put thought to her answer. “But as a young lady of the court,” she pauses and then tsks with a shake of her head. “Scandal is thy name.”

“Then you must pardon me.”

Isabella looks about her but finds only flowers, no stick with which to make her pronouncement. “I am without rod or sword.”

“Then I must beseech thee with a gift,” Rosaline says plucking the bloom of a white rose from its stem and kneeling before Isabella. “Oh, fair and just Princess Isabella of Verona, I come to you with penance in my heart.”

“You do no such thing,” Isabella says ignoring the flush of fire in her cheeks and wrinkling her nose playfully at Rosaline. Her heart beats as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Rosaline has never kneeled before her. Not even as children in play. The sight is…well, it is something to behold.

“Hush, Issa, I am prostrate before you. A cowering citizen. Guilt in her eyes as a hat beneath worried fingers.”

Isabella hides a smile behind the front of her hand and waves the other to signal Rosaline to go on.

“I have made a mockery of my family’s name,” Rosaline says, head bent, staring at the rose. “Besmirched my character for the sake of amusement.”

“Amusement, you say?” Isabella’s breath catches when Rosaline looks up at her with plaintive eyes.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Rosaline says. “Mine and yours. I did not mean to vex your lady so. Only to pull a laugh from your person. Make you smile.”

“Rose–”

Rosaline stands, pushing to her feet to once more look down upon Isabella. “Is it not a subject’s duty,” she asks as she places the rose in Isabella’s hair. “To please, Her Royal Highness? To further her happiness?”

Isabella, at a loss, does not answer. She swallows. They were jesting and now she feels as if they’ve stepped left onto a different path. _She sounds so sincere_.

“‘Tis a friend’s duty as well,” Rosaline says. “And you are my dearest friend, Issa. Forever and always.”

“And you are mine,” Isabella manages to whisper, eyes stuck on the bite of Rosaline’s teeth against her lip.

Rosaline’s answering smile is as blinding as the sun. She leans in to kiss Isabella’s cheek and then with a mischievous smirk, she picks up her skirts and runs back toward the palace. “Follow me, Issa.”

Isabella puts a hand to her cheek and whispers, “Forever and always,” before running after Rosaline. _And before the eyes of God_ , flickers through her thoughts as she works to catch up. “Wait, Rose. I have not pardoned you.”

“Then you must catch me, princess,” Rosaline says over her shoulder. “You must catch me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated!


End file.
